From the Maltese town of Sliema, scenes of vibrant door-knocker relocation:
The Mayor of Silema, a small town in Malta, has appealed for witnesses after a man stole his door knob.
What kind of person goes around stealing door knobs?! pic.twitter.com/52iKgeOHia
— Rare | ♻️🇬🇧 (@RareRestore) August 31, 2026
The gentleman, whose identity has not been disclosed, is, it turns out, involved in “other ongoing court cases.”
Via EmC.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
“You’re being yourself,” says a cross-dressing man who parades around the streets at night in a fetishistic latex maid’s uniform. With bonus dog collar and leash, obviously.
“I’m openly trans now. It’s a lot easier. But that rush will be missed, of having that secret.” pic.twitter.com/wWjnwSXfcT
— Genevieve Gluck (@WomenReadWomen) August 30, 2026
But he doesn’t want to talk about his sexuality, because “it’s complicated.”
Says our enthusiast of bondage and public humiliation, “The rush eventually wears off… I miss the rush… you do more risqué things.” And of course this chasing of transgression entails onlookers. People to be scandalised, disturbed or in some way imposed upon. Reluctant participants in his naff erotic drama.
At risk of seeming insufficiently affirming, what I see is a man being consumed by his own sad and grubby fetish. Not, I think, the most obvious basis for applause. Or indeed pride.
But hey. Modernity, baby.
We’ve recently mentioned how the realities above are difficult to convey in a normal social situation. Consequently, you may encounter people who wish to be seen as supportive of all things trans, because they’ve been watching the BBC and therefore know almost nothing about the phenomenon that they feel obliged to be seen supporting.
And so, you may find yourself in a social situation where nodding along or some affirming noise is expected, and you may then have to decide whether to sidestep the subject or introduce the other person to a world they may not care to enter or wish to spend much time in. But which is a very large part of what it is they’re affirming, if, perhaps, unwittingly.
And which isn’t necessarily what you want to think about when, say, having a meal with friends or coffee with the neighbours.
Update:
Regarding the endless chasing of transgression, mentioned above, it’s worth bearing in mind that our tedious transvestite is recording his interactions, any double-takes or looks of disgust, for sexual purposes. That’s his thing. He’s making other people part of his fetish, whether they wish to be or not.
See also this piece of work, mentioned here some years ago.
Dr Colin Cremin, a sociology lecturer, wants you, and his students, to be disconcerted by his stockings:
And his fitness to teach.
I hate to sound prim, but if I were – God help me – a sociology student, I doubt I’d be reassured by the fact that my lecturer felt entitled to use the classroom as a venue for his transvestite fetish.
It does rather suggest a pathological level of self-involvement and raises a suspicion that students may find themselves playing captive audience to – or being reluctant participants in – some personal psychodrama. A kind of power game.
Some variation of, “I can do this, and you can’t stop me without being accused of bigotry.”
Same dynamic. Same imposition. Same sad creepiness.
And note how readily Dr Cremin – our balding, middle-aged man in a frock and court shoes – employs the now-familiar language of “gender fluidity,” identities, and mandatory tolerance.
Lifted from the comments, which you’re reading, of course.
Via Stephanie in the comments, a glimpse of the wider world and the wonders it contains. I’m assuming she collects these things. For reasons we won’t go into.
I mean, all things considered, this place is almost respectable.
Classy, even.
Oh, yes. Nearly forgot. Open thread.
Just tap it. Trust me. || At last, a solution to the problem of wearing of a belt. || I have questions. || I have questions 2. || Insert joke here. || A tender moment. || Intriguing cheeks. || Lifelike home robot is curiously flexible. || A rolling stone. (h/t, Things) || Situational awareness. || The wrong kind of water for making tea, 1975. || Toddler, tall building. || Look, just try to keep it down in there. || Colander percussion. || Crumple zone. || Power plants around the world. || On the upside, it ain’t crowded. || IKEA products ranked by how long they take to assemble. || Aerodynamics. || On circles and vibrations. (h/t, Things) || Vloggers, you say. || She’ll love it. || Shoes can really pull an outfit together. || Because it can be done. || And finally, Ms Dolly Parton’s Jolene, on a 7″ 45 single, played at 33.
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In hardships-of-prison news:
But in 2024, the clinic discontinued access to the private room, and told transgender inmates they would have to use the device in their own cell. Caldwell deems this unacceptable, writing: “My cell door has a window where any male inmate or officer can see inside my cell and watch me use the device on my maturing female body.”
His maturing female body.
If the above doesn’t sound sufficiently unhinged, I should add that the inmate in question, the one suing the Department of Corrections and invoking his human rights, Mr Michael R Caldwell, is a rapist of children.
Mr Caldwell, who prefers to be referred to as Skeggi Hildof Katrinssonr or “Hildi,” isn’t alone, of course. His fellow transgender complainants are,
Pride, baby.
Mr Caldwell, our transgender rapist, insists that his alleged hardships constitute “sex discrimination,” and that the failure to provide a private salon for his twice-weekly laser hair removal sessions is impacting his mental health, such as it is. Indeed, the inmate has insisted that he will “not consent” to any perceived infringement of his womanly privacy. Stated sorrows include “elevating anxiety, depression, skipping meal times,” and frequent crying.
The invocation of consent may strike readers as somewhat ironic, just a little tone-deaf, given the criminal activities that resulted in Mr Caldwell’s current situation. Activities regarding which Mr Caldwell seems much less tearful, having blamed his crimes on the victims. And nothing suggests remorse like demands for fetishistic cosmetic procedures at someone else’s expense.
Not to be outdone, “non-binary” inmate Mr Hunter S Christian, our violator of dogs and enthusiast of child pornography, complains that he was denied access to Minoxidil treatments to correct his receding hairline – apparently, an unthinkable transgression – and likewise, testosterone supplements, supposedly to address his “shrinking testicle size.”
Hey, I’m just reading what it says here.
Mr Christian invokes “mental anguish… and a loss of the forward momentum in maintaining the delicate balance between my masculine and feminine sides.”
I’ll give you a moment to suppress all that sympathetic weeping.
Mr Andrew S Kennedy, the third complainant, and who is serving a 31-year sentence for the torture and murder of an eleven-month-old baby, claims to have been “repeatedly misgendered,” supposedly a violation of his human rights.
The trio’s additional demands, and they are numerous, include “body contouring services” and significant monetary compensation.
At which point I’m inclined to suggest we could just submerge the trio in hot concrete and get on with our lives.
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